


electric soul

by feychella



Series: pure entropy [5]
Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Maplekeene - Freeform, Song: Young and Beautiful (Lana Del Rey), Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 09:20:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25468426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feychella/pseuds/feychella
Summary: And so Fitzroy starts to care, even though it’s dangerous, even though it will certainly end up badly, because it’s Argo and how could he pretend any different?
Relationships: Argo Keene & Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Argo Keene/Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt
Series: pure entropy [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1848211
Comments: 9
Kudos: 14





	electric soul

**Author's Note:**

> My first songfic! I hope you enjoy. :)

**_I've seen the world, done it all_ **

**_Had my cake now_ **

_**Diamonds, brilliant, in Bel-Air now** _

When Fitzroy wakes up, unfamiliar music is drifting through the windows. Chaos’ dream fades away and he sees Argo, sitting on the floor, pale as a sheet. His henchman shoots to his feet, whirling around, only relaxing when he sees Fitzroy behind him. Argo collapses in Fitz’s arms and lets out a sob. His arms wrap instinctively around the genasi and he lets out a shaky sigh. Argo trembles in his arms and Fitz's heart breaks when his partner starts gasping, broken in his embrace. Hesitantly, he starts stroking Argo's back.

“Shh….it’s okay.”

“Fitz-”

“It’s okay, my love.”

And when Argo keeps crying, Fitz rests his head on top of the shorter boy’s head and stares out the window. If he hadn’t gotten cursed, if he hadn’t gone on that _damn_ mission with the centaurs in the woods, none of this would’ve happened. He could have been happy. He could have been good. Squeezing his eyes shut, he rocks Argo back and forth and tries to block out the memory of Chaos' cold fingers digging into his skin.

**_Hot summer nights, mid-July_ **

**_When you and I were forever wild_ **

**_The crazy days, city lights_ **

_**The way you'd play with me like a child** _

That rainy day, after the centaur trip, walking home with the other Thundermen. They’d returned to campus and Argo had yelled at him. He had never seen the genasi so passionate, so _angry,_ so defeated. He hated seeing him like that. Fitz catches a shimmering look at himself in a small puddle. A long scar runs down the right side of his face, spilling over his cheek, almost reaching down to his neck. Reaching a hand up, he traces the brand on his chest. _Broken._ Tears come to his eyes and he tries to tune out Argo's high-pitched voice.

“Okay, and you got yourself _cursed_ , and _do ye know how worried I was?_ You need to be careful. From now on."

“I can take care of myself.”

“But ye don’t have to.”

“Leave me alone, okay? You don’t get it. Walk away, alright, I won’t blame you. Go _away_.” Fitzroy’s voice breaks on the last word and he starts crying - full-on sobbing - salt stinging his scar. The pain nearly blinds him and he slips, falling into the mud. Argo rushes towards him, hands outstretched, and Fitzroy scrambles away from him, still wrapped in his cloak.

His clothes are ruined - he doesn’t care - his fancy cloth boots that he’d gotten on sale were all dirty, there was blood on his pants, on his hands, on his face. Rocks cut his hands, jagged and sharp, and he snatches his fingers away from the earth. His elbows hit the earth and dull pain shoots through his arms. Fitzroy wails when Argo touches him and the earth erupts around the two of them, forcing Argo away. Argo skids backward, kicking up dirt, and Fitz’s body shakes with cold as the wind slices through him. _Cold. So cold._ This world was cold, so what was the point in looking for warmth?

Chaos laughs in his ear as he watches the genasi stumble away, hurt in his eyes. His clothes soak through. They stick to his skin as he sits in the mud, glasses lying to one side, fogged up and cracked. Staring up at the storm clouds, he closes his eyes and flinches at the lightning. _Look at you._ His vision blurs, skin burning as his eyes go white, and he looks down into another puddle. _You’re all ruined._ Fitzroy sticks his hand in the puddle, and it keeps reforming, again and again and again, until his voice is hoarse from screaming, bile rising in his throat as he stares at himself. _You’re scarred._ No one comes to get him for a long time. _Who will want you now?_ The rain stops, he wipes his hand across his tearstained face, and Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt keeps going.

**_Will you still love me_ **

**_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_ **

**_Will you still love me_ **

_**When I've got nothing but my aching soul?** _

The sheets pool around his waist as he jerks upright. The window glows with faint starlight and Argo climbs up next to him. Fitz pulls his knees to his chest and refuses to look at him. _Maybe he’ll go away._ He watches the moon fade behind the clouds and re-emerge on the other side. It gives him hope though he's not sure why. Argo’s feather-light touch starts rubbing circles on his back. The simple tenderness of the action releases the tension behind Fitz’s shoulders and he relaxes for a moment, before remembering that he shouldn’t.

“Are you okay?”

“Why are you here?”

“I-”

“I’m not worth being here for right now. Okay? Go back to sleep.” His voice breaks and he wills himself to stay put, back still rigid. _Don't let him see the real you, because if he sees the real you, then he won't want you, because-_

“How could you think that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“I promise you it's not.”

Argo’s eyes sparkle with tears and Fitzroy knows it’s his fault, but he doesn’t care - _no, that’s a lie -_ he can’t care, now, because everyone he cares about will get hurt when Chaos comes. So he lets Argo climb down, dip in the mattress rising to fill his space, and inches down onto his bed. The ceiling doesn't answer him as he whispers comfort to himself. Snippers curls up on his chest and Fitzroy pats them absentmindedly. Fitz traces the shape of Argo’s body and falls asleep, wet cheek pressing against his pillow.

**_I know you will, I know you will_ **

**_I know that you will_ **

_**Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?** _

Fitzroy memorizes the pattern of Argo’s heartbeats. He starts falling asleep in Argo’s arms, first on accident, then on purpose. Because when Argo held him close to his chest, so he could hear his breathing, Chaos was quiet and he was _Fitzroy_ again. Fitzroy, from the Vale, son of Dendra Maplecourt, son of the bravest woman he knows. That’s who he was. That’s who he wanted to be. That’s who he tried to be around Argo. The blue blankets were his safety wards and he scrunches them in his hands. The softness comforts him and he looks at his henchman, sleeping peacefully above him.

The two of them became inseparable, because Argo could protect him from Chaos, his own mind, his impulses, and as much as he hated to admit it, Fitzroy needed that. He starts taking life slower, not rushing in as much, content to stare at Argo’s navy hair draping around his shoulders. He likes it when Argo laughs when they swap sleep shirts in a little unspoken game, and how Argo's deep blue eyes brighten when he looks at Fitzroy.

And so Fitzroy starts to care, even though it’s dangerous, even though it will certainly end up badly, because it’s _Argo_ and how could he pretend any different?

**_I've seen the world, lit it up_ **

**_As my stage now_ **

_**Channeling angels in a new age now** _

His heart starts to heal. He starts writing to his mother, letters passed along through Snippers. She would know what to do, she _always_ did. His mother's voice echoes in his memory as he reads every stroke of her small, flourishing handwriting over and over. Fitz’s scar heals, leaving a thin white strip across his face. He swears that if he looks in the mirror, he can see the mother-of-pearl lurking menacingly below the surface of his skin.

He splashes water on his face, letting the coolness rejuvenate him, and towels himself off. Chaos flashes behind him and his heart rate spikes as he turns around. They laugh and whisper something in another language in his ears. Their words reverberate around his skull and the pain starts coming in waves. Argo catches him before he hits the linoleum floor of their dorm bathroom, hauling him inside as the lights spin above him. _Why hasn’t he left me yet? He needs to leave. Or he’s going to get hurt._

When he comes to, Argo is sitting over him, looking years older, so _tired_. The light glimmers faintly behind his icy eyes when he looks at Fitzroy. Neither of them says anything for a long time. He strokes Fitz’s hair, and Fitzroy presses a kiss to his inner wrist, a _thank you_ that he cannot bring himself to whisper before he passes out, racing through an endless maze of his own making.

**_Hot summer days, rock and roll_ **

**_The way you play for me at your show_ **

**_And all the ways, I got to know_ **

_**Your pretty face and electric soul** _

Chaos bursts into his mind weeks later. He would need every spare bit of power for his battle against Gray. In the coming months, he would need to be _powerful_. His body trembles with the strain of the power Chaos imbues him with. They just smile at him. Chaos or him, he couldn’t tell who ruled his mind anymore. He decides he doesn’t care. _Can you handle it, Fitzroy?_ Lightning sparks under his skin and he crashes into the bed frame, nearly knocking himself out. _I have to try._ Chaos sways away from him and disappearing in a puff of deep red smoke.

Argo walks into the room just in time and he grabs for his arms as Fitzroy starts to shake, convulsing on the ground. He tries to test his muscles and they do not answer him. His head pulses with pain and he can’t focus on anything, anything but Argo’s eyes, how he’s touching him right now, how he shouldn’t _be_ next to him, just in case-

A crack. A snap. Silence. 

Fitzroy draws his knees up and stares, wide-eyed with fear, at Argo’s crumpled body across the room. _Turn away. Leave him here. There’s work to do._ Chaos tempts him, malice thinly veiled in their voice. Fitzroy shakes the thought away and retakes his mind for himself. He wrestles his body back under his own control, checking Argo’s body for a pulse. Nothing. _No, no, no, no._ He feels his wrist again, desperate, breath already coming in gasps. There. His pulse flutters under Fitzroy’s fingers and Fitzroy scoops him up, running to the medic ward, convinced he’s running out of time. He cards his fingers through the genasi’s deep navy hair, fidgeting nervously. The wind picks up outside, screaming, Chaos in the back of his mind.

“What _happened_?” Rainer asks.

“I don’t know,” he lies.

**_Will you still love me_ **

**_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_ **

**_Will you still love me_ **

**_When I've got nothing but my aching soul?_ **

**_I know you will, I know you will_ **

_**I know that you will** _

Argo wakes up with Fitzroy slumped across his chest. Fitz expects him to be angry, but he isn’t. Argo glances around at his surroundings, up at Fitzroy, then at the medics bustling to and fro around the ward. Reaching up, he drags him onto his lips, and suddenly Fitzroy is flying because Argo is warm, steady, gentle, tender, everything that he needed. Everything that he needs. He leaves crescent moons in Argo's skin, gripping onto him like he was the only thing keeping him alive. And maybe, in a sense, he was.

“I love you,” he says. Fitzroy almost believes him.

“Even…?” Fitz gestures to his brand, his ruined face, his messy hair, his whole body. _He’s lying._ Who could love him like this? _He’s lying._ He banishes Chaos from his mind, gripping the sheets of the hard bed. The paper rips and Argo pushes himself up, closer to his face. His whole body trembles with the effort and Fitz steadies him with shaking hands. _He’s lying._ The mantra repeats in his head, even when Argo kisses him again, runs his hands through his hair, gives him a soft smile. He catches Argo's wrist in his own and silently begs him not to let go.

“I love you, ye’ idiot.”

And this time, Fitzroy believes him.

**_Dear lord, when I get to heaven_ **

**_Please let me bring my man_ **

**_When he comes tell me that you'll let him in_ **

**_Father tell me if you can_ **

**_All that grace, all that body_ **

**_All that face, makes me wanna party_ **

_**He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds** _

He bites his lip when Argo asks if he’s okay because he hates how Argo deals with the formalities. How could he be okay? _Just kiss me,_ he says, head light and pounding with pain. _No,_ Argo pushes him away, _not until you tell me what’s wrong._ Fitzroy starts withdrawing, stops talking to Argo, training harder with Buckminster and Crush. Rainer cheers him on and he can barely spare her a smile. If he isn’t preparing for war, he’s wasting time. He tells himself that he needs to stop _caring_ as much. Letters from his mother lie open on his desk, piling up as the months pass in a blur. _Six months._

He lies in bed beside Argo, staring at his lean muscles, watching how his entire body moves when he breathes. Argo’s skin is limned in silver moonlight, and Fitzroy catches his breath. His navy hair spreads around his head like a halo and Fitz reaches up and tugs on it, tangling his hands in it, fighting to stay awake - because if he fell asleep now, the nightmares would take him and he wouldn’t be able to fight back. He kisses Argo's forehead and his partner murmurs, turning away. The shape of the words _I love you_ feel unfamiliar on his lips, but he murmurs it over Argo's sleeping form, hoping that he won't hear him, praying that he knows already.

**_Will you still love me_ **

**_When I'm no longer young and beautiful?_ **

**_Will you still love me_ **

**_When I've got nothing but my aching soul?_ **

**_I know you will, I know you will_ **

_**I know that you will** _

He’s lying on the floor, world spinning as the hardwood presses into his back. He reaches towards the ceiling, quivering with the force of Chaos’ power. Fitz’s fist closes and lightning crackles under his skin. Fitzroy shouldn’t have taken the power, he’s a fool for trying, he can barely stand. When Rainer wheels herself into the room, he moves to the upper bunk, watching the rain pound against the glass. He yells at her to go away and she nods, reserved, resigned. Rainer has retained her soft way of kindness. Fitzroy wishes he had kept whatever warmth he'd used to have. Fitz knows it’s unfair - she’s doing so much for their cause, she’s staying to _fight,_ for God’s sake - but he can’t help himself. He curls up into a ball and tries to fight the pain in his stomach away. 

“I have to go.”

“Of course you do.”

“Fitzroy, I-”

“No, you have to go. Go.”

“They put me on the night-time patrols. Just in case. Okay? I’ll be back soon.”

“I love you.”

“Good night, Fitzroy.”

That was the first time he'd told Argo that he had loved him. He stares at himself in the mirror for hours afterwards, trying to say it again. _I love you._ I love you, he said, and Argo didn't say it back. Fitz stands there in his cotton pajamas, heart aching. Had he turned into something - _someone_ \- Argo couldn’t love? His breath comes in short gasps and his throat closes up as he thinks about Argo, alone in the night, dying at the hands of a random band of demons. It can’t end here. It _can't_. He looks at the piles of letters by the trashcan, Argo's bedsheets on the floor. He gathers them up and drapes them around his shoulders, wearing them like a cloak. As he crawls up to the top bunk and swaddles himself tightly in the blankets, he notices the stars wink out in the night sky over the courtyard, plunging the campus into an unsteady darkness.

**_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_ **

**_Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?_ **

_**Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?** _

Argo finally stops crying, though his hands were still knotted in Fitzroy’s nightshirt, now soaked through with tears from both of them. The Firbolg had already fled, of course, but he would return. Chaos had come to all three of them. And Fitzroy hadn’t been able to protect them. _Useless._ His mind hisses at him as he cradles Argo in his arms. He would have to care, now. Even if it killed him. Especially if it killed him. Maybe it would be easier if he died in combat. His heart sinks in his chest as Argo stares up at him. Caring was dangerous. He decides it doesn't matter what happens to him the second Argo takes a deep breath and opens his mouth.

"I love you."

“I love you too."


End file.
